the
Jew's, received his douceur, and hastened to his mother's house, when he
found the old woman, as she constantly prophesied, not dead yet.

"Well, child, what have you brought--more gold?"

"Yes," replied Vanslyperken, laying down the one hundred and fifty
guineas which he had received.

"Bless thee, my son--bless thee!" said the old woman, laying her palsied
hand upon Vanslyperken's head. "It is not often I bless--I never did
bless as I can recollect--I like cursing better. My blessing must be
worth something, if it's only for its scarcity; and do you know why I
bless thee, my Cornelius? Because--ha, ha, ha! because you are a
murderer and a traitor, and you love gold."

Even Vanslyperken shuddered at the hag's address.

"What do you ever gain by doing good in this world? nothing but laughter
and contempt. I began the world like a fool, but I shall go out of it
like a wise woman, hating, despising everything but gold. And I have had
my revenge in my time--yes--yes--the world, my son, is divided into only
two parts, those who cheat, and those who are cheated--those who
master, and those who are mastered--those who are shackled by
superstitions and priests, and those who, like me, fear neither God nor
devil. We must all die; yes, but I shan't die yet, no, no."

And Vanslyperken almost wished that he could gain the unbelief of the
decrepit woman whom he called mother, and who, on the verge of eternity,
held fast to such a creed.

"Well, mother, perhaps it may be you are right--I never gained anything
by a good action yet."

_Query_. Had he ever done a good action?

"You're my own child, I see, after all; you have my blessing, Cornelius,
my son--go and prosper. Get gold--get gold," replied the old hag, taking
up the money, and locking it up in the oak chest.

Vanslyperken then narrated to his mother the unexpected interview with
Smallbones, and his surmise that the lad was supernaturally gifted. "Ah,
well," replied she, "those who are born to be hung will die by no other
death; but still it does not follow that they will not die. You shall
have your revenge, my child. The lad shall die. Try again; water, you
say, rejects him? Fire will not harm him. There is that which is of the
earth and of the air left. Try again, my son; revenge is sweet, next
to gold."

After two hours' conversation, it grew dark, and Vanslyperken departed,
revolving in his mind, as he walked away, the sublime principles of
religion an